I Have a Lunch Date
by VintageVillain
Summary: An exploration of the scene in TRF when Sherlock stops Molly from making it to her lunch date. A look into the character of Molly (and extended a little past the end of the original scene)


I have a lunch date

Summary: A exploration into the conversation between Sherlock and Molly in TRF. I've extended the scene a little but in order to explore the character and, well, because I wanted to clear up who she was meeting for lunch

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters.

Written very quickly, so probably filled with mistakes. Feedback always welcome.

Molly frowned as Sherlock's hands rested on her shoulders, turning her and pushing her back towards the door of her lab.

"I have a lunch date."

"Cancel it" Sherlock replied coolly, and Molly slowed down. "You're having lunch with me"

She had grown in confidence around Sherlock since Christmas. The embarrassing, horrible Christmas that would go down in infamy. The night that he had first publically acknowledged her feelings for him, apologised, kissed her and then identified the body of a naked woman.

She had been better at articulating herself around him since then, even if their conversations had been brief and professional. She had even refused him when he had commanded that she get him a coffee once. He shot her a look, and she ended up getting it for him eventually, but she had refused him to begin with, and it was the thought that counted.

Molly steeled her nerves, as she was about to try to be assertive with him once again. She had a lunch date, with a lovely man. A lunch date that she really wanted to attend. Sherlock Holmes holding up a bag of crisps was not going to cut it.

Then, whether intentionally or not, he said the words that always made her stop. "I need your help."

It wasn't just those words from Sherlock. The words "I need your help" coming from any of her friends was enough to make her change her plans. It was the way her dad had raised her. If a friend needed you, drop everything. Be there for them.

Over the years she had had friends who took advantage of her need to help people. Drunk friends calling her for a ride at all hours of the night or asking to borrow money off of her. Standing up to them was difficult, and it was part of the reason she lived a rather empty life.

Her need to help people was part of the reason why she had chosen pathology as her field. One, the patients couldn't manipulate her caring nature, and two, in most cases, the dead were the ones who needed the most help.

Sherlock had manipulated her many times, but he had never used the words 'I need your help'. While she enjoyed the attention, and allowed it to fuel her crush on the devastatingly handsome man, she knew deep down it wasn't real. How could it be real. The great Sherlock Holmes didn't see her in that way. He didn't see anyone in that way. He complimented her hair to get into her lab, not her pants and that was all there was to it.

One thing struck her, however. In their entire friendship, in all the time that he had been using her for her lab and sometimes (before john, of course) for her medical knowledge, he had never told her he needed her help directly, and that was what made her take the first step back towards the lab.

And then he had to go and open his mouth again "One of your old boyfriends, we're trying to track him down, he's been a bit naughty"

Ah, the only event in her past that made her want to crawl into a hole and die more than the Christmas debarcle. The 'Sherlock-outing-your-new-boyfriend-and-you-running-out-crying' catastrophe. Molly had tried really hard to forget the fact that she had dated Jim Moriarty. That was no easy feat when it seemed he was in the paper almost every day.

For days it was intensely humiliating. Co-workers gossiping about 'nice Jim from IT turning out to be a criminal' and adding 'hey Molls, weren't you an item?'

Molly cut off john and Sherlock, who were talking between themselves with the well prepared and often recited speech she had given everyone else "Jim wasn't even actually my boyfriend, we went out three times. I ended it."

It didn't sound as strong as all the other times she had said it. Justifying it to the man who knew the most about Jim was harder than justifying the relationship to a co-worker who had gotten all their details from the paper that wrapped their fish and chips.

Sherlock knew the obvious subtext of the situation that none of the other busy bodies knew. Jim had used her to get to Sherlock. She had tried not to take it personally. To remind herself that Jim was a heartless man and that at least it wasn't that serious between them. It was all just something that she wanted to put behind her. Maybe helping Sherlock would help her put it behind her.

Doubtful, as Sherlock seemed to be determined to remind her of her failed relationship at every single turn. After the events of the swimming pool, Sherlock and john had visited her. To tell her who Jim really was. Molly had broken it off with him already, thankfully, but she was shocked and appalled that Jim from IT, the nice, mild-mannered, respectful gay man that she had dated was a criminal mastermind.

John had handled the situation with kindness and patience, and Molly knew it was a sample of his Dr. Watson bedside manner. Sherlock, on the other hand, had been very Holmes-y in his approach, telling her it should have been obvious that the man was using her to get to him, as it was unlikely he had legitimately seen anything in her, and due to his obvious-to-anyone-but-her sexual preferences, was not using her for sexual activities like other, previous men had. Molly just kept herself from crying long enough to kick him out.

"Yes, and then he stole the crown jewels…" Sherlock began.

Here we go. The Jim Moriarty crime resume. Molly knew it like the back of her hand, but Sherlock was talking so quickly that she wouldn't have been able to fit a word in to stop him "Broke into the bank of England and organised a prison break at Pentonville"

Her heart dropped at those words. She sure did know how to pick them.

"For the sake of law and order, I suggest you avoid all future attempts at a relationship Molly."

If her heart had dropped previously, it plummeted as he pulled the crisp packet out of his jacket pocket again, waved it, and entered the lab. Avoid all future attempts at a relationship. For the sake of law and order.

How dare he! It wasn't her fault that Jim had done all those things. It was just her bad luck that she had been caught up in the whole situation. All she had done was strike up a conversation with a co-worker whom she had lots in common with. The only thing that she did wrong was to try and make Sherlock jealous (and considering all that had transpired, that was not something that she felt overly guilty about)

John shot her an 'I am-sorry-for-his-behaviour' look. One that she had seen on her friends face numerous times over the last 18 months. Sometimes she felt sorry for John, having to clean up the social messes that Sherlock often got them into.

Molly paused at the doorway of the lab and adjusted her bag strap on her shoulder. John was holding the door open for her, but she was unsure as to whether or not she was going to go in.

She had a date. A lunch date with a kind, lovely, attractive man. A man who she knew for a fact was straight and not a consulting criminal. A man who had pursued her, had sent her flowers and declared his intentions. Molly knew, given the right attention, this relationship could be one that defined her life, changed her world and finally got her to put down the torch that she had been carrying for Sherlock for the last four years. Was she really going to give up her date to go into the lab and help the arrogant, self-centred, rude, curly haired, dramatically cheekboned git?

John frowned, noticing that she seemed to be internally battling. "Molly?"

"Sorry John" she sighed, looking out of the nearby window at the top of the small café across the street. She was already late for her date, but she would probably still be able to make it.

"Look, I don't want to make this harder for you" John began, closing the door to the lab again. Molly knew that even though he had said he didn't want to make the decision harder, that the next words out of the doctors mouth would be ones that would make the decision atrociously tough "and believe me, you have every right to tell him where to stuff it and go meet your friend, but he does need you. I don't know why, he didn't really explain it to me. All he said was that you were the only one who could help him with this part of the problem."

"My lab is the only thing that can help him" Molly stated bitterly "and he doesn't have clearance unless I am around"

John nodded, unsure of what to say next, but Molly already knew that the Watson guilt trip had worked on her. If Sherlock needed her, then she had no choice, really.

"Go in" Molly replied. "I have to make a call. I will join you in a minute"

John made a comment about making her a coffee and entered the lab. Molly turned away to stare out of the large window before her, digging in her oversized bag for her phone. She unlocked it, scrolled through the numbers, and then lifted her phone to her ear.

"Hello? Yeah, it's me. No, I am sorry; I am not going to be able to make it. Sherlock, well, he says he needs me" she paused awkwardly, her new beau knew all about Sherlock, and about her feelings for him, the feelings she was working on burying. He was being incredibly patient, Molly only hoped that cancelling on him to help Sherlock wouldn't push him over some edge.

Whilst his tone was annoyance, the voice on the other end of the line stated that he understood.

"Thankyou Greg" she sighed, turning to head back into her lab and work though her lunch break. "I'll make it up to you, I promise."


End file.
